


Goodbye, shadows

by dearly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearly/pseuds/dearly
Summary: The phone call aftermath. Set during TFP.





	

He steps up to her door but hesitates a moment before turning around and pacing the length of the hallway. When the tiles at his feet begin to appear as if they are shifting positions, he snaps himself back. He’s been awake for at least forty-eight hours now and the only sleep in the days prior came in brief spurts. But even though his body is worn and his mind sluggish, he had to come here straight away. He’s felt ill at ease ever since that moment on the phone and as soon as the police finished with him and that he knew John and Mycroft were safe and tended to and his parents told what had happened, he was barking orders for a helicopter to take him back to London.

He'd decided not to call first, wanting to speak in person after their last conversation, but perhaps just showing up wasn’t a good idea either. 

He knocks cautiously. “Molly? It’s me.”

There’s a long moment’s pause when all he can hear is his own blood pumping in his ears before the door unlatches and swings open.

The sight of her alone is almost enough to break him again.

The first thing he notices is her own exhaustion - the dark circles under her eyes, the creases in her forehead, the normal spark dulled in her eyes. The wrinkled pyjamas and hair escaping from its ponytail indicate that she’s been trying to sleep and failing. _How long has it been for her?_

She studies him blankly for a moment before letting him in. “Mrs. Hudson called earlier. She, um—” She folds her arms in front of her chest, almost hugging herself. “She told me what happened.”

“Molly, I—” 

“Are you alright?” Her eyes run instinctively down his body looking for any signs of injury or distress.

“Yes,” he says as her eyes drift up to meet his again. “Are you?”

The shrill alarm of a timer interrupts.

“Tea,” she says almost with relief and heads to the kitchen.

Sherlock slips off his coat and his shoes, arranging them out of habit next to the pairs already lining the entryway, and follows her. 

“Sit,” she says and he obeys sliding onto one of the stools. There is already a steaming mug in front of him and he breathes in the comforting herbal warmth.

They sit for a moment in silence as she clears away some dishes, but it isn't long before her curiosity breaks the ice.

“ _So_ you have a sister,” she says, wiping off the counter.

“I do.”

“...That you didn’t know about until now?”

He nods. “It seems I’ve erased any memories I had of her as a child, or rather told myself a different truth to replace the memories of what actually happened.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes her head. “Fuck.” It’s more of an exclamation than a statement of disbelief. Mrs. Hudson must have told her more than he’d thought.

“Exactly,” he says with a hint of a smile.

“Just as soon as I begin to think I understand you and your family...” The words are meant to be joking, but she looks sad as she says them, or perhaps angry - or both. It’s painful to see her having to deal with all of this when it's not her problem. _Look what you’ve done to her,_ the voice in his head says. _Look_. 

But it just starts pouring out of him.

“Molly, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that. If I hadn’t thought you were in danger, I would never have asked you to do that. _Never_.” The memories come rushing back, threatening to consume him again - the words on the coffin, the fear, the realization of the pain he caused, the splintering of wood and the stinging in his fingers. He clenches his hands into fists and feels it burn still. “I was so worried.”

She slaps the dishtowel onto the counter and braces her hands against its edge.

“That was the cruelest thing I’ve—” she almost spits it out as she fumbles for words. “I’m not some fucking social experiment.” 

“I know.” He reaches across the counter placing a hand on one of hers and is relieved when she doesn’t pull away.

“Eurus was after me, not you. You were a unfortunate pawn in her game because she was aware of my feelings for you and wanted to use them against me.” 

He can see her eyes flooding with tears so he walks around the counter and brushes the hair from her face before placing his hands around her shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to force you to say what you didn’t want to, but making me say the words first made me realize that it’s true. That all these feelings I have for you, these feelings that have confused me for a long time, are really quite simple to explain. It makes sense now in a way I never could put together before. I _meant_ _it_ , Molly, when I said I love you. I would take back all the hurt I caused you if I could, but I would never take back that.”

She leans into his chest and he wraps his arms around her and holds her until the tears in her eyes subside. When he lets go, she starts to waver on her feet so he leads her to her bedroom.

“You need sleep. How many nights has it been now?” 

She thinks as she pulls the band out of her hair and lets it fall onto her shoulders. She’s calmer now but he knows it’s probably due to exhaustion. No doubt she's still angry, and with every right to be.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten much rest since Mrs. Hudson called and said that there was a bomb in your flat but not to worry. I don’t know what made me more stressed out: the fact that there was an actual  _bomb_ in your flat or the fact that Mrs. Hudson didn’t seem too concerned about there being a gaping hole in the wall where you were standing five seconds before.”

Sherlock leans against the doorway and watches as she goes through her nightly routine of brushing her hair and fluffing the numerous pillows. “Well technically it was a rather  _small_ bomb.”

She rolls her eyes with as much energy as she can muster and collapses onto the bed, burying herself under the covers.

“I’ll just—” He points awkwardly towards the door.

“Sherlock,” she says softly and pulls the blankets away from the spot next to her. “ _Please_.”

Without hesitation he walks to the bed and settles in close - his chest pressed to her back, his legs curving against hers, his arm wrapped around her stomach.

As he listens to her breathing, his mind drifts back to the coffin and what he wanted to tell her in that moment of realization.

“Molly...”

“Hmm?” she hums sleepily.

“You are not alone. You will never be alone.”

She turns around and rests her head against his chest as he pulls her in closer. “I know, Sherlock. And neither are you.”

There’s still much to discuss, but it can wait.

For now, the whole worldcan wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think these two have lots to talk about but judging from Molly's beaming smile at the end of TFP they definitely worked through it. I'm so glad to have these two nerds back and IN LOVE!
> 
> Title comes from the song _[If You Can't Sleep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fh4l2cubkAQ)_ by She  & Him:
> 
> _If you're far away, if you can't see my face_   
>  _If the world is cold, but the sun shines the same_   
>  _Shut your eyes, there are bluer skies_   
>  _For you're embraced in my heart_   
>  _Goodbye, shadows_
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [kathleenkellly](http://kathleenkellly.tumblr.com). Come say hello!


End file.
